


I Can't

by Le_Floof



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Blood and Gore, Context? Who needs context, Either way its just pain here, Grief/Mourning, Hurt Dipper, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, No you actually do, Okay Maybe a Little Sorry, Suicide Attempt, sorrynotsorry, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-05-11 09:37:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5622619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Le_Floof/pseuds/Le_Floof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mabel is gone. That is one fact a grieving Dipper can't accept and there's only so much a watchful guardian can do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Mentions of suicide/attempted suicide and gore
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> No seriously, if this triggers you, please stop, okay? Go get a cookie instead.  
> Those of you still reading, go get a cookie, too. You're gunna need it.

    The entire room was painted in a comforting blanket of orange, leaving its own pleasant tinge of warmth. Battling against the sharp September breeze that caused the blades of grass to quiver, yet only for a moment.

This plan should work, the boy assured himself.

    Nearby, a bird's call echoed throughout the sleepy forest. It almost seemed as if a woodpecker responded with a steady 'tap, tap, tap'. The pine trees gracefully riding out both the bird's assault and chilly breeze in a gentle sway. The rest... Was still. The air remained fresh with the scent of vegetation and wet dirt from the early morning. He took a single step towards the soft meadow.

The world pulled up closer.  
A rope's bare threads broke.  
A strangled gasp.  
A crunch as bone splinters.  
A single scrape of red marrow across the shards.  
A resounding tear as the bone shears through skin.  
A plume of dirt wafts around the crumpled figure.

    "Kid! What are you doing up there!?"  
  
    Darkness pulsated into his vision, blooming like mold. Eyes fighting to keep open only catch snippets of the world like a strobe. No.... This wasn't what he wanted.

    "Dipper what-"  
  
    A strangled yelp left only as a gurgle when he felt heat at his side. Sticky fluid soaking into his clothes, rolling over his skin. The black cut away the image of his great uncle's shoes.

    "Kid!?" Stanley's voice cracked. Tears erupted from his eyes. 

    All Dipper could manage was a weak whimper as the rope tugged against his neck. This wasn't fair...!! Stan wasn't supposed to know! He wasn't supposed to be here! Damnit, he wasn't supposed to be in his arms!!! Just to spite him, his vision returned for another second. Allowing the image of his Uncle's tears burn into his head.

    "I've gotcha kiddo...."  
  
    WHY!? The rope was supposed to hold!! After the rafters broke, he triple checked it. Defiance welled up in him and he pushed against the arms. The splintered bone against his skin. A choked sob against the bile in his throat, drowning in it.

    "Dipper!? Dip- Stop!"  
  
Adrenaline allowed him to shake his head. Twice. Twice only.

    "N-" A tiny sputter. "N...o...." A gasp.  
  
    For a moment, all he could feel was the soft warmth on his cheeks. No words, no voices, no 'tap, tap, tap' in the forest. Just warm tears caressing his cheek like a comforting hand. His eyes opened again. Stan's face looked like it was made of stone. Worry seemed to be forever etched within it. The word 'worry' wasn't even the proper adjective. No, there wasn't a proper adjective for a great uncle holding the last child in his care. That same child who used to frantically run off into the woods in promise of adventure. Who used to smile just a little bit as everyone laughed when his voice cracked. The same child that still had the noose wrapped around his throat, body almost spasming as it tried to expel the pressure blocking it's oxygen.

   "G-grunkle-" A cough. "Stan..." A wheeze. "Please..." Tears hemorrhaging from his eyes the same as the blood from his arm.

    "S-stop...."

    "H-hold on, kid, I'll-"  
  
    "I can't...!!" Another sputter triggered shivers to overtake his muscles.  
  
    "I can't.... Anymore... Not-" He choked, blood accompanying bile this time.  
  
    "Without her..... D-don't... Make me.... Please...!!" The boy gripped soft fabric into his hands, trembling with his plea, eyes fighting to rise to his face.  
  
    "Grunkle Stan... I can't-"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I lied. You probably need context.  
> Basically, this whole thing started from a dream I had. Mabel died a horrific death witnessed (in his mind, caused) by Dipper, traumatizing the poor thing to the point where he continuously tries to end his life. (Bill is the one who's just barely foiling his plans) Until eventually he's crippled in all senses of the word and his grunkle finds him one last time. (This time. Right here. Look up.) and slips into a comatose state. Where Bill, the last person who can communicate with him, decides the best medicine is to torment the kid even further (Only to realize well... feelings) and so it continues from there.
> 
> First, pardon me for the /probably/ ugly formatting and atrocious attempt at writing characters. Any and all criticism is welcomed and appreciated.
> 
> NOW! My question to you (you magical being who somehow clicked and read words I typed with/without being bribed, maimed, beaten, and/or threatened), would you like to see this turned into an actual fic? With a /proper/ beginning, middle, end(?) and (eventual) prescribed BillDip fluff?  
> If you guys want it, please do let me know and I'll make it an actual, regularly updated, thing.


	2. A White Room

    He was awake, he could FEEL that he was awake. Yet every fiber of his being wished that, if he could keep his eyes closed just a bit longer, he wouldn't wake up. Granted, he didn't remember everything, but he did remember his 56-step plan with a calculated 2% chance of failure. That plan was supposed to bring death. Injury was perhaps a peg lower but still a guarantee.... One that kept every muscle in his body completely still for fear of the pain that would greet him... So he was alive. If that truth wasn't bitter enough- all that he had to wake up to was pain, always pain.

    His lips lightly twitched with the thought of 'why...?' but no sounds escaped. No.... Nothing escaped. As his brain began to process everything from behind closed eyelids, it only discovered nothing. No sounds at all. No smells. No pain. (begrudgingly and instinctively, his side twitched and it didn't even bring a sting) And so, after a few moments of preparation, he cracked an eyelid. Nothing. Wait. No, it was just white. The wall (ceiling?), the light, the second wall (yeah, definitely ceiling) and the corner. The entire room was stark white, even as his eyes rested on the sight of a rectangular nightstand. White as well, silver handle, accented by various waves and curves similar to Roman architecture. Yet the way the legs were shaped presented itself exactly like those old cast iron tubs.

    '19th century Britain.' Dipper mouthed. 'This isn't the asylum kind of white with padded walls and floors, no..' He squinted at the sharp color 'Pristine.... Surgical.' He thought, after all the bed was still like a hospital's, rounded and plastic with various buttons here and there. He continued to scan the room. Not even a window. It wasn't even until he reached up and pushed the 'Call Nurse' button that he realized hands and legs weren't bound.

    Dipper leaned his head back against the pillow, eyes slipping closed. It seemed like after Mabel left, every hour of lost sleep finally crashed down on top of him- Mabel.... The thought was somewhere between drowning in arctic ice and a white-hot blade into his chest without the mild scope in between. His brain didn't even register his hand jamming the 'Call Nurse' button again. Slumping down onto his side, he pulled the pillow out from under his head and curled into a tight ball around it.

    "Please.... Stop it..." Dipper pleaded to his own brain. No, heart. No, wha-

    "Stop what, Dip-Dop?" Mabel called out from behind him. How did she- his brain screeched to a halt the moment he locked eyes- eye. The look on his face had to have been the funniest thing on earth to send the familiar three-sided beast into two back flips. Dipper's mind locked up the same as his elbow. Everything seemed to be frozen as the demon laughed.

    "Well, well, well, we-" Bill began, magically willing different wells- all fitting various definitions of the word- to appear within the room. Only to be cut off by Dipper's arm giving out, allowing his head collide with the side of the bed. By the time Dipper had curled up in pain- the demon was howling in laughter once more.

    "Gee kid! You are a RIOT!" Bill mocked, making the room shudder violently with him. It was all Dipper could do to grab the edge of the bed and hope he wouldn't get bucked off. Catching air several times but, this time, without anymore pain thanks to the mattress. In the end, he didn't even have the luxury of curling back into a ball.

    "Bill...?" The word barely passed his lips, half in questioning and half as a statement. Dipper wasn't even looking up and yet it was enough to catch the triangle's attention. Who narrowed an eye at the strange tone his name was spoken in.

    "What, ya forget my name Pine tree? Even after you summoned me." Bill huffed, putting his hands on his 'hips'. He must've taken the slight tilt of Dipper's head as a question as he motioned to the 'Call Nurse' button. Instead of being greeted by white letters on a red background, it was a simple yellow, glowing button with a black triangle stamped on the front. Dipper stared down at the button for a few moments more, hand gripping it as he continued to stare back at the demon without a word. It didn't take more then 5 minutes to make the triangle squirm in the awkward silence. (It briefly crossed Dipper's mind that there was a time he'd laugh such a sight)

    "WHAT Pine Tree!?" Bill's outburst causing a few flickering blue flames to spark from his palm. Still, it wasn't enough to force anything out of Dipper. Bill's eye narrowed as he floated around the barely responsive teen, as if searching for a trick or trap.

    "Out with it already. What do you want, kid?" Bill hissed in warning, multiple clones flickering into existence to form a circle around him. Once more, Dipper wondered, since he didn't find anything, if he was still expecting him to try an attack.

    "You're testing my patience." Bill growled, every color inverting, body flickering a blood red and pupil a pitch black, for a solid minute. Brown eyes glanced down and he gave a weak shrug. The circle closed in, this time, a mere centimeters from his face, finally produce a shudder out of the boy. Seemingly satisfied, Bill's copies vanished and he sped back to a somewhat reasonable distance.

    "Why summon me then." Another weak shrug. Now, Bill's anger twisted into bitter annoyance.

    "Ugh! Pine Tree! Where'd that piece ol' sixer go! By now you should've tried something stupid!" Bill huffed. Dipper only stared at the floor. He had a point, after all, his spark was snuffed out precisely a year and two days ago. Bill was continuing to ramble on about something but not a word actually made its was through him. Honestly, he was just reveling the realization that, a year ago, he'd be flinging himself at Bill in an attempt to kill him. A few months ago the mere thought of the demon launched him into a panic attack and fits of screaming. But now? The actual thing was right in front of him and... Nothing. He hadn't even considered the question of HOW he was right there when they were certain they sealed him in stone until just-

    "-TREE!" The demon screeched in his face. Finally snapping Dipper back into.... reality? Who knows how long he'd been out because the room was a MESS. The walls were spattered in blood...? It honestly looked like rainbow paint had been splattered everywhere. The only thing that hinted at blood was that it was eeking from a disemboweled deer carcass with..... Tiny gnomes clamoring over themselves to escape the deer's cavity. Pieces of the ceiling had all collapsed, some falling within an inch away. Hell, there was an old gramophone blasting, LITERALLY music (both in sound and various written scores but both in an... alarmingly deadly manner) from... Casablanca? Yes, he recognized the lyrics. How had the white nightstand managed to avoid the mess, though?

    'Of course Bill would've conjured this up.' Dipper thought with a smirk. When everything went dead silent. He raised his head only to be greeted by a motionless, staring demon.

    "W-what...?" Dipper barely squeaked and, as he lit a spark, there was a poof of blue fire and the demon was gone. Along with the 'gifts' he conjured in the room. Leaving it pristine, white, and silent once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... I guess I'm continuing this? I didn't even plan to until I was suddenly writing this chapter and now I've started on the third? With a plan of where I actually want this to go? This is truly bizarre. Whelp, same as always, PLEASE do let me know if you want more. I may write it regardless, but even a little support really helps to ensure I actually will. For now, hope you enjoy?


End file.
